


Total Eclipse Of The Heart

by Merenwen76



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Character Turned Into Vampire, Fix-It of THE Voice message, M/M, Mates, Mating Rituals, Mention of Benny - Freeform, Ritual Sex, Switching as part of the Ritual, Wincest - Freeform, mention of Purgatory, season 8 AU, vampire mates, vampire!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27488527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merenwen76/pseuds/Merenwen76
Summary: Back after a year in the hell of Purgatory, Dean sets out to find his brother. Sam seems to have withdrawn completely, until Dean finally finds him in an old, abandoned house in their hometown. Dean must realize that the past year has also changed Sam a lot, and Dean has to make a momentous decision.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 24
Kudos: 398
Collections: 2020 Supernatural Reversebang Challenge





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DWImpala67](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DWImpala67/gifts), [Jerzcaligrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerzcaligrl/gifts), [firesign10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesign10/gifts).



> The picture and also the prompt, have fascinated and challenged me from the first moment I saw them. The story starts at the beginning of Season Eight, but it is hardly based on it at all. You should still be familiar with the prior seasons to better understand this story.
> 
> I would like to thank a few people:  
> First my amazing beta Jerzcaligrl. Your endless patience with my mistakes is much appreciated. You are a wonderful person with a fine sense of humor.
> 
> To my other awesome beta firesign10. Your flair for the right choice of words, and your determination to track down every grammar mistake is unique. Your little side notes are an enrichment.
> 
> To my artist, DWImpala67, I thank you for this great cooperation, for the pictures for your feedback. I feel this story as our common work and it was wonderful to realize it with you. 
> 
> Please follow her link and admire all her works once again.   
> <https://dwimpala21.livejournal.com/6624.html>
> 
> Finally, to the mod, thank you for running this challenge for yet another year.
> 
> The title and lyrics are from the Bonnie Tyler song "Total Eclipse of the Heart“

[ ](https://ibb.co/Gsb8PJK)

[ ](https://ibb.co/pKsBdtK)

_Then_

It is bright, much too bright. A glaring light burns Dean's eyes. Then, darkness. Raven-black night envelops him and makes him shiver. He stays in motion; to stand still means death, inattention is a luxury he cannot afford. His weapons are always ready for action. As his eyes adjust to the darkness he recognizes outlines, high trees, fog in the treetops, and a smell ... clean and crisp. Hope grows like a small flame in his body, no matter how he tries to suppress it. It all seems so peaceful- no pursuers, no ambush, just silence.

Dean sees the tent and stalks up from behind. Checking the wind direction, staying hidden, watch out for the cracking of branches. His whole body runs on autopilot .

He lets the boy live, he and the girl are just out camping, obviously no danger emanates from them. Dean holds his prey tightly in his clutches.

The backpack is like a magic bag. Two sweaters, a rain cape, a small flashlight, a folding cell phone and ... a chocolate bar.  
It is a damn fucking candy bar that brings tears to Dean's eyes and makes him lay down his weapons.

He did it, he's home.

_Now_

_Every now and then I fall apart_

Dean has been on the road for one week. He has travelled 1,680 miles, on foot, hitchhiking, or using his charm to obtain a bus ticket. One week's time to acclimatize. To accept that he has really made it out of Purgatory. That he no longer has to fight for his life. Every. Single. Day. That he is back and he's alive. He holds the straps of the backpack firmly in both hands while walking along the dirt road. He doesn't know what to expect when he reaches his destination. The old house stands at the end of Arlington Road, in the middle of the forest and supposedly abandoned for five years now.

The first thing Dean does when he finally believes he was truly back on Earth for real is to pick up the cell phone and call Sam. He tries to remember all the burner phone numbers they have used over the years. Almost all of them are dead. One finally starts ringing, and Dean's heart begins to beat faster with every ring. Then he hears a voice on the other end of the line. Quiet and harsh. “Hello?“

"Sam?" He shouts. "Sammy, it's me." He hears a click, then a dial tone. Dean redials, but this time, no one answers at all.

Dean tries to stifle his concern. He would be skeptical too. He remembers what it was like when Sam jumped into the cage with Lucifer. How his mind also refused to accept that it was really Sam who faced him, after a year, while his heart accepted it immediately.

 _As soon as he sees me, everything will be okay again_.

 _Everything will be just like before._ Only he has to find Sam first, as he seems to have disappeared from the face of the Earth.

Where should Dean start? Where should he go?

Bobby was dead. The junkyard was wiped out. Kevin stayed gone, and Crowley better not run into him.

Dean tries several numbers, old Hunter friends. But almost everyone meets him with skepticism or seems to be hiding something from him. It's Garth, of all people, this sock puppeteer, wannabe Hunter, who gives him the decisive clue.

Garth obviously sees himself as the new Bobby since last year, as if he, or anyone, could hold a candle to Bobby. He looks after a network of hunters, takes care of them and helps answer their questions.

Dean is in Ohio when he reaches Garth, while he is scraping the last of the change from his backpack for a hot dog.

For some reason Garth doesn't doubt Dean's story for a second. He finds him a place to stay, and sends him a new ID and a credit card via UPS Express. Only when Dean asks for Sam does Garth hesitate.

"You and I should meet, Dean. I can be in Ohio tomorrow. And then we'll talk."

"We'll talk now. And I want to know where my brother is and why everyone I ask is avoiding me."

Not for a second does Dean get the idea that maybe Sam could be dead and that's the reason why he doesn’t get an answer from the other hunters. He would feel it, he would know it. He was sure about that.

"There's something we should probably talk about first." Garth's voice is too friendly, it makes Dean's neck hair stand up.

"Garth, I want that address, _now._ I'll figure everything else out myself." Then, somewhat softer, Dean whispers. "Please, Garth, I just want to see him."

"He's home, Dean. He's in Lawrence, Kansas."

_Every now and then I know you'll never be  
the boy you always wanted to be_

It's dawn when Dean reaches the old house at the end of the street. He himself knows it only from stories. It was the first ghost story his mother told him when he was a little boy.  
A ghost is said to haunt this house who grieves over his lost love, crying every night for his soulmate to come back.

As a child, Dean wanted to go to the house, imagining how he would one day go with Sammy to explore and give the ghost a fright.

Dean stops for a moment at a safe distance and looks over to the old wooden house.

Even though the house has certainly seen better days, it still has a certain charm. Two-storied with a pointed roof and an oriel, which almost reminds Dean of a lighthouse. In the upper room of the tower, Dean can see light, otherwise nothing seems to indicate that it is inhabited. Hesitantly Dean walks across the green meadow on which autumn leaves have settled like a brown-red carpet. It crunches dryly under his feet, and Dean tries to avoid further noises. He walks around the house to climb the three steps to the entrance where he sees a familiar shape under a tarp. He pulls it off, and there she is--his Baby.

Dean's fingers stretch towards the chrome and the moment his fingertips touch the car, he realizes that it's really over. That he is really home again. Dean takes a deep breath; the cold air of autumn flows through his lungs, and he releases the breath he'd held back for a week. "Hey Beauty," he whispers to her. Where Baby is, Sam must be. Nothing else matters. Only the three of them.

Reluctantly Dean turns away from the car and climbs the steps to the entrance of the house. Again and again he looks around. The sun has almost set and the moon is already faintly visible. Without further light sources it will soon become pitch dark. For Dean, remembering his nights in Purgatory, it's unfortunately an all too familiar situation. He still doesn't know what to expect, Garth's words and the reaction of the other hunters gnaws at him. He reaches for his weapon and takes the small flashlight out of his backpack, pushing aside the holy water, the silver knife, and the yellowed photo of him and Sammy.

It's the picture that he always carries with him. It shows the two of them as children, in the back seat of Baby. John must have taken the picture, but it belongs to Dean. How many times did he bring it out last year during the cold, hopeless nights.

Dean grabs the brass doorknob, counts to three and opens the door.

The door swings inwards into the large entrance hall with a loud creak. So much for the moment of surprise. Dean focuses both the gun and flashlight in front of himself with trained ease.

The hall is dark and empty. Dean's steps echo off the walls. He lights up every corner before he decides to take the first steps of the stairs that lead to the upper floor. He should just call out for Sam. To announce himself, but something holds him back. Why is his brother avoiding Dean? What has happened to him? As Dean walks up the last few steps, his mind starts playing tricks on him, images appearing in his head uninvited. Sam dead, pale on an old mattress. Sam without a soul, strange and cool. Sam with his mouth full of blood, high on the drug, Ruby. The stabbing pain of jealousy, which he can never admit, but which mocks him, makes Dean pause for a moment.

The hallway is also barren. A few pictures hang on the wall, yellowed and meaningless. Dean figures they're probably from the precious owners. Dean chooses the hallway that leads to the round tower room. He feels sweat on his forehead, despite the chill that prevails here. Couldn't Sam have at least turned on the heater?

Once again Dean grips his weapon tighter and prepares to finally see his brother again. Whatever awaits him, they will solve it. Together. As it should be.

The door to the tower room opens almost silently, giving Dean a view into a room that gives him hope. A long bookshelf, high up to the ceiling, lines the entire right-side wall. Directly in front of him is a fireplace, in which several logs of wood flicker. A small round table with a red wing chair stands in front of it. At the long panes of glass making up the bay window, there is a massive wooden table with several open books and an old globe. On the table is a cup of tea and a short grab at the cup confirms to Dean that the cup is still warm. Sam is here. Involuntarily Dean has to smile. This room literally screams of his brother. For a tiny moment he is inattentive, gives up his guard.

The knife on his neck rests against his pulse. Precise, deadly. Dean senses the person behind him, feels the breath on his neck. He raises his hands above him, signaling that he will not fight back.

"I don't know who or what you are, but you were dumb enough to come in here. Tell Crowley to think of something better, I'm disappointed." Sam's voice sounds so strange, so tired, and yet the familiar melody of his brother lets Dean close his eyes briefly.

As far as the knife allows, he turns around, a shadow defining the outline of his brother.

"Heya Sammy."

_Every now and then I get a little bit lonely  
And you're never coming 'round_

"Dean?"

Sam swore himself he'd never feel hope again. Whenever he'd believed they were on the right track, that they had finally been doing the right thing, fate had laughed in his face and taught him better. And now there is this man in his room, this man who looks like Dean, who smells like Dean, and whose big, green eyes look at him as only his big brother could.

And Sam, he doesn't want it, but it's there, that little spark of hope, that voice that is begging the universe to make it true. That the person facing him is really Dean.

"Put the knife down, little brother." Dean winks at him, and Sam's inner walls collapse. And if it's a djinn mocking him, _screw it_ , Sam wants to believe. He puts the knife down and steps into the light of the fireplace.

Dean turns completely around and both of them stop hesitantly for a moment. Then Dean beams at him and a moment later Sam feels the warm body of his brother in his arms. The knife falls to the ground with a clatter and Sam embraces and presses his brother so firmly against his own chest, as if it is the only thing that keeps him alive. Dean's hair has grown a little longer and it tickles Sam's nose. He puts his head in the crook of Dean's neck and shoulder, as he has done all of his life. No matter how long they have been separated, nothing has changed.

Except for Dean's scent, now sweet and alluring in a whole new way. Sam's nose touches the delicate, naked skin of his brother which is not covered by his shirt and jacket. Sam takes a deep breath and his lips almost touch the tender flesh. Enchanting, attractive, _mine_.

Frightened over his reaction, Sam releases Dean and clears his throat, embarrassed.

Dean is also visibly touched, though perhaps not for the same reason.

"Dude, you need some sun. You're cold and pale." Dean tries to relieve the tense atmosphere.

Sam smiles, tortured, and tries to change the subject. "I still can't believe it."

"Me neither." Dean looks around the room. "You realize this is a huge house?"

"I like this room." Sam defends himself. "It's roomy and it's got a great view."

"You can see the enemy from afar," Dean replies, before he realizes that the hunter in him has spoken again. "Why here, Sam?"

"Why not?" hisses Sam before he puts his hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm just still so overwhelmed... Dean, where have you been?"

Dean nods in agreement. "I think we both have some catching up to do. What do you say you get us both a beer from the fridge and heat up something to eat. I'm starving."

Sam nervously chews his lower lip. "I got nothing here."

"What...?" Dean stares at him like he's speaking a foreign language. "Nothing?"

"Sorry."

"Not even beer?"

"I didn't know you were coming?"

Dean raises his arms theatrically. "Not even those green things you spend hours torturing in the blender?"

"They're called Smoothies."

"They're called _disgusting_ before you add alcohol."

Sam rolls his eyes. "I knew that was you..."

"You're welcome.“

Sam stops in the middle of his answer and looks at Dean. "I missed you so much," he says before he finds himself in his brother's arms again. But this time it's just relief, this time it's the feeling of the little boy running to his big brother with his bleeding knee, knowing that everything is going to be okay now.

"Okay, suggestion. We drive down to the city, find a nice bar, have a few beers and a big portion of chicken wings.“ When Sam still hesitates, Dean adds "...And a green healthy salad for my vegetarian rabbit."

Sam laughs sarcastically, _if you only knew,_ he thinks, but Dean looks at him with so much confidence that he just has to agree. "I should tell you something first," he starts, but Dean interrupts him.

"Nope, whatever you did to Baby I don't want to hear on an empty stomach. Come on, let's go."

Sam tamps down the fire in the fireplace and puts on his brown jacket. He takes the keys off the wall and throws them to Dean. He walks a few steps behind Dean and cannot take his eyes off him. While Dean is complaining about electricity and light, all Sam notices is that Dean is back in his life, and he has never been so relieved, - and never so full of fear.

They remove the tarp that covers Baby and take their respective seats in the Impala.

Wistfully, Dean strokes the big, black steering wheel. "How many times did I think of this?" Then he turns the ignition key and Baby's engine revs up. Dean closes his eyes and enjoys the melody in his ears. Sam can't suppress a smile.

Then he looks out into the darkness of the night whose outcome he cannot predict. What will they return as? As brothers, or as enemies. Something indefinable in him has a third suggestion, but Sam wipes the thought away immediately.

_Every now and then I get a little bit nervous  
That the best of all the years have gone by_

" ‘Purgatory‘? That...Dean, that’s horrible." Nervously, Sam peels the label off his beer bottle. Dean orders bottle number two while he still sipping from the first.

"Don't be. How could you have known?" Dean chews with relish on his last chicken wing.

"How are you?" Sam asks anxiously. The bar's not too crowded. They've retreated to one of the back corners so they can talk undisturbed.

Dean shrugs. "Well, so far." He drops the gnawed bone onto the plate and Sam looks at him and sees that Dean is in a different place with his thoughts.

Sam can't blame him. What must his brother have experienced this year? How much it must have changed him.

"What about you?“ Dean's voice makes him wince.

"Huh?" he asks, realizing he's been staring at Dean.

"What happened after we removed Dickhead's head?" Dean winks at him.

"I didn't know where to start. You and Cass suddenly disappeared. Everything went so fast; Crowley grabbed Kevin, and I... was alone." Sam clears his throat. "But I can't imagine what it must have been like for you."

Dean stares at the bottle in his hand. Then he takes a big sip, as if he wants to flush his memories away.

Sam thinks long and hard about his next question. "Is Cass...?"

"He didn't survive the first day. They pounced on him like hyenas." Dean stares blankly ahead.

Sam takes a deep breath. " Oh god. How did you..." But he doesn't know how to finish the question.

"Let's just say I had help I didn't really expect, but I graciously accepted."

When Sam looks at him, asking, Dean just shakes his head. "Not now Sam. Give me some time." And Sam nods understandingly.

"What about Kevin?" Dean asks instead.

"The angels, a few of them, took care of him and freed him from Crowley. They've been protecting the Prophet ever since. We don't really keep in touch anymore." Sam avoids Dean's gaze, and Dean senses that's only half the truth.

"What's going on with you and Crowley?" Dean digs further.

Sam takes a sip from the bottle, but Dean realizes he's just stalling. "We had a difference of opinion. He'd like me to work for him, but I turned him down. From time to time he tries to _remind_ me of the offer."

"Why does Crowley want you to work for him?" Dean asks, but Sam doesn't answer.

Something's wrong, Dean can sense it, a piece of the puzzle doesn't want to fit, and yet Dean hasn't figured it out yet. Sam definitely has his soul, Dean sees it in Sam's eyes, even if they seem tired and red.

"Did you make a pact with Crowley?" He suddenly asks, angrily.

Sam almost chokes on his beer. "No. With what? No one saw you or knew what happened to you. Even the angels didn't know, so why would I do something like that?"

Okay, no deal, and an intact soul.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Dean's tries not to sound jealous, but he's not really succeeding.

Sam slides on his chair uncomfortably. "No, I'm not seeing anyone." Sam has a hunch about where this is going.

Okay, no deal, one soul, and no little demon who turned his brother's head. All in all, it sounds pretty good, considering Dean's been gone for a year. But there's something he's missing. Garth would not have reacted like he did without a reason.

_Every now and then I get a little bit angry  
and I know I've got to get out and cry_

The thought still hangs in the air when they are on their way back, as he maneuvers Baby through the darkness. Amazing how quickly he got used to the smell of the car, the roar of the engine and Sam at his side again. As if the universe had pressed pause for a moment and now it finally goes on.

"So, you're in contact with Garth." Dean tries again.

"He sometimes helps me with cases. Even if you don't like it, he does his job pretty well."

"So, you're still hunting."

Sam doesn't answer right away. "I hunt, but alone. I pick out individual cases and I go."

"Why alone?" Dean asks.

"I don't get along well with other people. It's better for both sides."

Dean's alarm bells ring when he parks Baby in the driveway of the house. His brother doesn't get along with other people? Since when is that? Although it was certainly easier for Dean to charm people when it came to collecting information, it was Sam who always insisted on keeping in touch with other hunters and being sympathetic to his fellow man.

He looks over at his brother. Sam looks so tired, and nervous. What is he afraid of? Of Crowley? _Please tell me what it is and let me help you,_ Dean thinks as they exit.

"I'll fix you up a room," Sam says as they enter the hall. He flips the light switch and finally Dean can enjoy all the splendor of the entrance hall.

"You still haven't told me how you got this house." They walk up the stairs. The stairs are covered with a crushed velvet carpet, which has definitely seen better days.

"I didn't know where to go. As I said, it was the first time I was alone, really alone, and I..." Sam breaks off, and the queasy feeling returns in Dean. "Eventually, I wound up here, and I heard about the house. I made an offer, which was probably ridiculously excessive, and I got the house."

Sam goes into one of the adjoining rooms and sets out bedding. Dean returns to the tower room and lights the fireplace again. It is so cold here.

"I didn't think you'd want to live so isolated."

Sam is still rummaging around in the other room. "I like it, it gives me peace and quiet and no curious visitors. The ghost story from back then still scares people away."

Dean looks at the fire. Only a slight glow can be seen. He involuntarily remembers the few times he and Benny dared to light a fire. When they could be sure not to draw attention to themselves.

Benny never needed the fire to warm himself, his skin remained cold, but he said the fire reminds him of the past. It gives him a feeling of security to his previous life.

Benny... Dean's stomach becomes weak, slowly he turns to his brother.  
Sam stands beside his armchair looking at Dean insecurely.

And Dean finally understands, _understands_ the piece of the puzzle that was missing. Slowly he walks to his backpack.

_Sam's skin was never cold, they always joked that he is his own power plant._

Dean opens the buckles of the backpack. Sam does not move a bit.

_There is no light in this house, even if it is so dark that Sam shouldn't be able to see anything._

Dean covers the bottle with the clear liquid. Does he really want to know?

_Sam, who has assured Dean that he has already eaten, despite Dean's offer of the rabbit food._

Please I don't want to be right, Dean begs one last time before he throws the bottle of holy water at Sam.

Seconds later he is pressed against the wall, with tears in his eyes. He stares at his brother, whose sharp teeth shine brightly at him as he hisses in blind rage and pain.

_Every now and then I get a little bit terrified  
And then I see the look in your eyes_


	2. Chapter 2

[ ](https://ibb.co/3fXHRf1)

_Once upon a time there was light in my life  
But now there's only love in the dark_

"Sam, listen to me." Dean tries everything to keep from provoking Sam, but the hunter in him instinctively wants to defend himself.

"Sam, it's me, Dean. Listen to my voice, please." Dean's pressed up against the wall; he might fight back, but he's hoping Sam will calm down by himself. Angry eyes look at Dean. Sam's skin is marked where the holy water hit him, red and burnt. Sam's fangs are bared as he holds Dean by his collar, his fangs are bared and he growls. Nothing of his brother remains at the moment, it is as if a wild animal has possessed Sam.

"Let me go, please Sam, let me go." Dean's voice remains calm, but the blood pulses through his veins. Sam keeps looking at Dean's carotid artery as if he is struggling not to bite Dean.

"I'm sorry, Sam, I didn't mean to hurt you." Dean's green eyes are begging Sam's dark, wide eyes. Sam's body is completely pressed against Dean's, he can feel the tension in Sam's body. It is a strange feeling to have his brother this close to him, with no space between them. He feels Sam's breath on his skin. Dean tries to avoid it, but there is something alluring about Sam's touch, and a dark unspoken desire rises in him, as if something inside Dean is searching for it. Dean gets dizzy and it is difficult for him to stay aware as his eyelids flutter. Without consciously wanting to, Dean moans softly and turns his head to the side, presenting his naked neck to Sam. His body reacts to Sam's presence and Dean feels how the power works its way all through his body. "Sam." he whispers, but he doesn't fight back anymore.

Very slowly, Dean senses a change in his brother and also in himself. Sam's pupils lose their darkness and hazel eyes look worriedly at Dean. Dean feels Sam's hands loosen and let go of his collar. The fangs recede and Sam staggers away from Dean.

Dean jumps back into the present at the sound of Sam sobbing loudly. He takes a step towards Sam, but his brother raises his hands defensively.

"Don't come any closer!" he cries while tears stream down his face.

"Let me help you." Dean tries to get closer, but Sam retreats.

"No one can help me!“ he shouts desperately, and it breaks Dean's heart to see his brother like this. „Are you happy now? That I finally became the monster you prophesied? A bloodsucking freak, right?“ Sam is hurt, he is angry, and he looks so small when he sinks down to his knees. “So get it over with and kill me."

Dean's trying to process everything, his mind spinning. "I'm not gonna kill you, damn it, Sam. Give me a minute." Dean's literally shouting the words, hoping they'll sink in to his brother.

Sam just laughs in derision. "I screwed up. Like Dad said, you're gonna save me or kill me. Looks like it's come down to the latter."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sam. So could you please, _please_ just calm down and explain it to me?"

Slowly, Sam gets up. Tear tracks run down his cheeks. With childish stubbornness, which only Sam can express in this way, Sam looks into Dean's eyes and spreads his arms.

"I am a vampire. A _fucking, bloodsucking vampire_.“ Defeated, he lowers his arms. "I'm not your brother anymore, I'm the monster you're hunting."

Tears pour from his red-rimmed eyes again and Sam leaves the room.

Dean is left speechless. As if in a trance, he looks at the logs of the fireplace that are beginning to crumble into ashes. Only minutes later he realizes that the wet on his skin is his own tears.

_Nothing I can say  
A total eclipse of the heart_

Emotionless, Sam looks into the landscape in front of him. If one can speak of advantages as a vampire, then seeing in the darkness is probably one of them. And good hearing.

Far in advance, before Dean entered the house for the first time, Sam could hear him. Heard the wheels on the gravel ground and the beating of his brother's heartbeat. But until the very moment it happened, he did not want to give in to the hope that he would really be allowed to see Dean again.

Sam strokes Baby's hard steering wheel. He can hardly explain to himself why he retreated to this place. Instinctively, he had sought protection, and Baby was the strongest refuge he had ever had. Baby and Dean. The three against the rest of the world. He looks out again through Baby's windshield and wonders if Dean will let him see a sunrise one more time.

Contrary to some exaggerated portrayals, sunlight doesn't kill him, it just makes him weak and slow. But it's not pleasant either. His eyes are more sensitive, and the bright sunlight is still "killing" Sam.

A gentle knock on the shotgun window makes him wince. Dean actually managed to sneak up on him. Sam hears the well-known creaking sound as Dean opens the passenger door and holds up the keys. "You won't get far without these." Then he swings into the passenger seat. "I'll never get used to the view here." Sam tries to smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

Sam avoids thinking about Dean's loudly beating heart or the sweet-smelling blood that flows under his brother's freckled skin. And certainly not about the attraction Dean radiates. Sam refrains from meeting people as much as possible, fearing he could hurt them, but with Dean - it’s different. It's like he really needs Dean to be close. It scares Sam, and at the same time he can hardly resist the magical pull.

"Tell me."

Dean's dark, smooth voice sends Sam jumping back to reality. Dean has his back to the door and looks at him. There's no blame in his eyes, just concern and guilt. Sam has to suppress a smile. Dean had disappeared, had fought for his own life for a year, and yet he blamed himself for what had happened to Sam.

Sam looks ahead at the steering wheel, trying to put into words what happened. Images appear in front of him that he had hoped to repress. Sam's own voice sounds strange as he begins, as if he's talking to himself.

"You were gone, Dick was defeated, Bobby ..." Sam struggles against the trembling in his voice. "Bobby was dead. I ... didn't know where to go. Tried to look ahead. One foot in front of the other. I had the car fixed. _First step._ Then I asked around, hunters, friends, people who owed us a favor. _Second step._ But nobody knew anything, not a trace, you were just ... gone." His leg starts tapping nervously. "Then I kept on ... _asking_... monsters, demons, anybody, but after the Leviathans were defeated, they all became the same old soulless beasts they were before.“

Once again, Sam takes a breath, while the fateful night reawakens in his memory.

"It was dark, almost like here, and it was raining. I was tired and done, but I still wanted to reach the next city. Then I saw something on the street, thought I hit an animal. I stopped the car to get out and look for it. I couldn't leave it there." For a moment, his eyes look pleadingly at Dean, and his brother smiles at him with understanding. "So I got out to check. And by the time I realized it was a trap... it was too late."

Dean's hands clenched in fists. But Sam goes on.

“There were five of them, a leader and his nest. The two of us could have easily beaten them and then argued about what kind of food we would get afterwards, but I... I was so fucked up, and nobody knew where I was. I screwed up."

Tears run down Sam's cheeks again.

"When I came to, the leader had already bitten me. They laughed and could not enjoy their triumph enough. I lost all sense of time. Again and again, they bit me, fed from me and fed me. They gave me blood to drink, forcefully held my mouth open.“ Sam's lips tremble, the shame is written all over his face. "I... wish they'd just killed me, but they had other plans. I realized how the blood changed me, how I wanted to follow the leader. I fought back, Dean, I fought back, but it's like a drug, your body doesn't obey you anymore.“

Sam closed his eyes for a moment, to forget the feeling inside of him.

„Out of nowhere, a fight broke out. I was in a daze, hardly noticing anything. Apparently Garth had tracked my cell phone after I hadn't checked in for days. He was looking for me. Four hunters stormed the nest. Wiped it out within seconds... and with them..."

"The leader, who bit you." Dean finishes Sam's sentence. Sam looks at Dean's hands. There are bloody traces of Dean's fingernails in the palms of his hands.

Sam nods. "There was no going back. I begged Garth to put me out of my misery. I didn't want to become a monster, one you would hate so much. But he couldn't, he saw that I was still me. In a very fucked up way. So I stayed with him for a while, to learn to adjust to this new life. Before I left I made him promise me, whenever I put a human in danger, he would do it. No begging, no second chance. But I stayed clean. Till today no one has died because of me, I swear to you, Dean."

"I believe you." Dean puts his hand over his mouth. "What about blood?"

Sam looks down at the floor of the car in shame. "I need it to live. I get it from a blood bank. Just enough to feed me.“

"Crowley?"

Sam rolls his eyes. "He seems to think since he can't have the Prophet, he wants a Vampire Winchester on his demon staff instead. And when kind words and offers didn't help, he sends monsters at me every once in a while to ‘convince‘ me."

"Son of a bitch. Seems your answer is pretty clear."

"Dead sure." Sam smirks.

Dean laughs, then he gets serious again. "What's the plan?"

Sam barks a vehement reply. "Haven't you been listening to me? The vampire who turned me is dead. I've taken human blood. It's over for me, Dean. There's no cure."

"Wrong, Sam. You were alone, you didn't stand a chance, but now I'm back, and we'll figure this out.“

Sam timidly shakes his head, then looks at his brother again, and sees the determination in Dean's eyes. And the certainty that he won't give up on Sam so easily.

"When I saw you creeping through the house, I didn't know what I wanted more. That you were really you? That I had you back? Or that you were a shapeshifter only pretending to be you. Because I was afraid that if it was really you, it would mean that you were going to find out. That you would see me and what I've become."

"Sam, look at me." Dean's eyes fixate on him and Sam recognizes, in spite of the darkness, his brother's mossy green eyes. "None of this is your fault. You couldn't help it, and I don't think you're a freak or a monster. I don't know where you get that idea, but it's not true. We will find a solution, you and I, like we always do.“

Sam doesn't know what to say. Those words out of Dean's mouth, were what he'd been dying to hear

Dean seems to feel Sam's melancholy. "You're not sparkling in the sun now, are you?"

Sam looks at him, annoyed.

"God, I missed your bitchface." Dean smiles contentedly.

Sam chews on his lower lip. "I was sure you'd react differently. I'm a vampire Dean. Why don't you hate me?"

Dean glances through the passenger window for a moment. He, too, seems engrossed in memories.

"For one, you're still my little brother. I could never hate you." Dean clears his throat. "And for another, I have something to tell you, too."

_Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time_

"You see the irony, don't you?"

Sam smiles, tortured, at his brother. Finally they are back in the house. Sam remembers the little secret stash of alcohol that was hidden behind a bookcase in the living room. The whiskey in their glasses shimmers golden brown. It is quite good, soft and aromatic, and was probably very expensive. Sam enjoys this silent ritual with his brother, even though he had to convince Dean that vampires can still taste.

After the first glass, Dean starts to talk. Sam knows from the way his brothers pauses that Dean does not tell him everything but only shares the most important things with him. The rest, as always, Dean will bury deep inside himself. Dean tells him how Cass died, how close Dean would have been to death as well if he didn't get help.

Benny. Sam's jaw tightens every time Dean mentions that name. A vampire, of all things, could protect his brother where Sam could not. It almost seems like Dean took a liking to the creature. Dean seems nostalgic, and when he ends up with Benny not being able to follow him, helping Dean escape and possibly sacrificing himself for Dean, there is so much admiration and awe in Dean's voice that Sam has to put the glass away to keep it from being thrown against the wall. The sweet poison of jealousy permeates every pore of his body. No other may possess Dean, no other vampire will get him. Dean is _his_ , he belongs to _him_ , his _mate!_

"Sam?" Dean's sorrowful voice brings him back to the present.

"Sorry, I was just... overwhelmed by what you've been through."

[ ](https://ibb.co/7vj782z)

Dean sits in the velvet chair with Sam leaning against his desk. The fire has completely burned down. Only a few candles light up the room. The shadows cast a magical glow on Dean's face. It is as if Sam has seen this face a thousand times before, but only now does he realize how beautiful his brother is. The watchful eyes, surrounded by long, thick eyelashes. The soft lips with the small perfect bow. The prominent chin with the five o clock shadow and the dimple in the middle. Sam doesn't know how to deal with these feelings, nor how to stop them.

"It's late, you should go to bed," he finally says to get a little distance between him and Dean. However, he doesn't know if he is doing this for his or Dean's protection.

Slowly his brother rises. He approaches Sam and puts the glass down on the table next to him. For a short moment Sam closes his eyes, inhales Dean's closeness, feels the warmth of Dean's skin, the living contrast to his cold body.

"What are you doing here?" Dean points to the open books.

Sam opens his eyes again, the moment is over.

"Research, I'm looking for cases, sources on monsters. Same old, actually."

A smile plays on Dean's lips. "What do you say, little brother, you dig us up something?"

Sam looks at him with irritated looks. "You... you want me to get us a case?"

"Why not? I'm back here. That's our job. So?"

"You want to go monster hunting with _me_ , a vampire?"

Dean puts his hand on Sam's cheek. "No, I want to go monster hunting with you, _Sam._ "

"You're crazy." Sam whispers.

"Tell me something new." Dean laughs.

_We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks_

Sam should have known better.

He sprints through the small gardens of Chandler, the pretty little town in Oklahoma.

Why couldn't he say no?

He jumps over children's toys, BBQ grills, and lawn sprinklers. If someone should really look outside at three o'clock in the morning, they would only perceive a shadow for a fraction of a second. They would rub their eyes for a short time and then return to their ideal world.

Sam feels no fatigue, his legs carry him through the city in no time at all, just away, as far away as possible.

The case sounded so simple, a ghost, a simple salt and burn. It should be simple like in the past. He and Dean, monster hunting, the family business.

But right from the start Sam felt Dean's presence driving him crazy. The beating heart in Dean's chest is pounding like the rhythm of his own desire. Sam tried everything to distract himself, counted the number of local entrance signs they passed, read a book, forced Dean to let him drive through the night because vampires don't sleep, but he really didn't know how to bear Dean's proximity in a motel room.

Everything went well, the victims were questioned, the grave was found and yes, there are advantages in digging a grave in no time. And when his brother whistles appreciatively, Sam‘s chest swells with pride.

Then the ghost appeared, disagreeing with the situation and apparently not willing to give up.

They fought, Dean shot twice at the ghost with salt bullets. He had driven him back so Sam had time to light the fire. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean being thrown against a gravestone and Sam saw red. Like an animal he lunged at the ghost. And even though he could not grasp him, the sheer horror of the spirit was clearly visible. Sam would kill him - no mercy. The fire was burning high when Dean came to and Sam was bent over him.

"Are you okay?" he stammered, and his hands scanned every part of Dean's body.

"I'm okay, Sam. I'm okay." Dean tries to convince his brother, but Sam doesn't hear him anymore. The fear of losing Dean, the weak human he has to protect with his life. The blood from Dean's head wound so close, so temptingly close.

"Sammy, look at me." Dean is still on the ground, reaching into Sam's hair to hear him out. Sam leans over him and loses the fight.

Dean's lips taste so sweet, the blood under the soft, pink skin is so close to touch. Beer, whiskey, leather. Sam's tongue enters Dean's mouth, trying to touch every corner. Dean, brother, mate.

His lips move over Dean's chin, his whole body lies on top of him, pressing him to the ground. He feels Dean's breath, hears his light whimpers, which only makes Sam feel even better. "Mine, I need you, please mate."

His fangs come out, looking for the pulse on Dean's neck, touching the naked skin. One bite, and they would be united.

"Sammy please, not like that."

His teeth stop on Dean's skin for a moment. One more millimeter and he'd puncture the delicate spot.

Hesitantly, he comes to his senses. He understands where he is and what he almost did. Carefully he rises from Dean's body. His brother breathes heavily, his cheeks are flushed.

Then it breaks over Sam like a wave. "What have I done?" He stares at Dean with big eyes.

He retreats more and more from Dean, who has meanwhile recovered from the shock.

The open grave burns brightly, bathing them both in a demonic, reddish light. The spirit is gone, and what remains is the shame that Sam cannot forget.

"Leave me alone," Sam hisses, stumbling backwards over another grave. Dean runs his fingers over his lips, Sam sees that his brother is trying to process what has happened. But there's nothing to forgive. Sam realizes that he desires Dean, the vampire in him has taken possession of Sam and Sam has let him.

Sam knows what it means, the vampire in him wants Dean as his mate, he desires him, wants to transform him. But Sam will not let him.

"Don't follow me, Dean. Go away. I'm beyond saving. This," he's pointing at both of them," it doesn't work anymore.“

"Sam, come to your senses." Dean's calm, way too calm. Sam's eyes are panicked, looking for a way out.

"I'm sorry, Dean." He looks at his brother one last time, tries to save his memory forever.

Jerkily, Sam turns around. He hears his brother desperately shouting his name, but his decision is clear. Sam runs away, runs away from Dean as far as he can.

There is no turning back, he would rather die.

_Once upon a time I was falling in love  
But now I'm only falling apart  
There's nothing I can do  
A total eclipse of the heart_

Baby races over the asphalt, covered with autumn leaves. Dean looks focused on the road, his goal clearly in sight. He manages the distance to Lawrence in three hours. In front of Sam's house, he brings Baby to a halt with squealing tires. He dives out of the car and runs to the house. He knows that vampires are fast, but whether Sam had a chance against Baby, Dean does not know. While he is still ripping open the door he yells for Sam. Dean tries to suppress every form of panic. They're gonna fix it. They always do. It was just a kiss. It didn't mean anything.

 _Who am I kidding,_ he wonders as he walks up the stairs. He searches every room.

Except for the tower room, everything seems uninhabited and bare. But even this room has not been entered since they both left.

Why did he have to leave with Sam as well? Why did he want to prove to himself that nothing has changed? Disempowered, he lets himself fall onto the armchair.

_Please, come home Sam._

Dean waits sixteen days, then he drives away.

_Every now and then I know there's nothing any better  
and there's nothing that I just wouldn't do_

"You look ridiculous in that baseball cap."

"And you look like shit," counters Garth, and hands Dean a beer.

Garth suggested they meet here in Bumfuck Brighton, Colorado. Like Dean cares where he is.

For six weeks he has been searching for his brother, driving aimlessly through the streets of the United States, looking for cases that could attract a vampire. He has even solved two of them. He had to work off his desperation, and a werewolf and a witch came in handy.

"Where is he, Garth?"

"Have you eaten anything today?" Garth asks, and sits down next to him. They meet at a rest area, Dean sees no reason to drive all the way into town. The last few weeks for him are the same routine; refueling, peeing, beef jerky, booze, repeat.

"Garth, I'm not here to exchange recipes with you. Do you know where he is or don't you, because if you don't, this is a waste of time."

Garth looks at Dean closely. Dean's face is pale, the dark circles around his eyes stand out in stark contrast to his green eyes. Dean is running on adrenaline and caffeine.  
Garth has thought long and hard about what he wants to say, how much he will tell Dean. One look at the hunter in front of him and Garth makes his decision.

"I know where he is."

This triggers an impulse in Dean, his eyes become dangerous slits. "Where?"

Garth is trying not to be intimidated. It's not the first time he's met Dean Winchester. Even though Sam was by his side back then.

"I'm gonna tell you, but I want you to listen to me first and be as open as you can, okay?"

Dean pushes his chin forward and crosses his arms. "Go ahead."

"That doesn't sound very relaxed..."

"Garth, start talking."

Nervously, Garth takes the cap off. "What do you know about vampires, besides how to kill them?"

"Fast, very good hearing, sensitive to sunlight, crosses don't kill them, and Robert Pattinson was a..."

"Dean, I'm not talking about any of that." Garth tries again. "Vampires are still human in a way, their bloodlust is a survival instinct. They still feel pain, sorrow, and longing just like humans do. Only on a different level. They act impulsively, driven by their instincts. Many vampires give in to their animal side. They no longer realize that there is another way to get blood, than to kill humans or animals. Their instinct tells them that they are above humans, because they are superior to us in many things. If we can slaughter a cow for food, they can kill a human."

"I don't quite see how that helps me with Sam," Dean replies, impatiently.

"Sam never gave in to this instinct. For him, the most important thing was to protect and respect humans. He used the positive traits of his vampire and fought the bad ones. He's practically a vegetarian vampire."

In a somewhat insidious way, Dean has to admit that Garth's approach makes sense. His brother, the gentle vampire, sounds so ridiculously like Sam.

"Okay, I'm following you this far, all right? But I still don't see where this is going."

They both look up as a Camper pulls in to the rest stop. Two kids storm out of the vehicle and play catch.

"Sam can't be cured. No matter how much you wish he could. But he can live with it if you let him and trust him."

"Go on." Dean doesn't sound convinced, but Garth keeps talking.

"First, I need to know if you can accept that Sam is a vampire, that, contrary to your morality, it's possible to be a monster and still be good."

"You have no idea about my morality." Dean takes a deep sip from the bottle and his mind wanders to Benny. The monster that Dean owes his life to. The monster that Dean eventually looked at like a brother, during that one year in Purgatory . Yes, monsters can be good. He has experienced it himself.

Dean puts the bottle down and his voice sounds much more conciliatory.

“A year ago, I probably would have disagreed with you. Monsters stay monsters no matter what they tell you." Dean's thoughts turn to Amy Pond, how much Sam had begged him to spare her, but for Dean there had only been black or white. Human or monster and nothing could change his world view.

_No one, but Sam._

"But now... I just want Sam back. I don't care if he has to drink a fucking Bloody Mary every once in a while. I just want to be with him."

_Because I need him._

This is Dean's dark secret. Since Sam left, Dean has been pining for his brother, his thoughts so wrong and forbidden. They find Dean in his weak moments, clouding his senses, whispering in his ear with lust.

Dean feels his cheeks turning red and he looks to the side.

"So you feel it too, interesting."

"I don't know what you mean," Dean replies, harshly.

"When vampires fall in love, it's forever. As in together forever. A vampire's instinct doesn't care about morality, forbidden, or lineage. Everything important for him revolves around his mate. The one that is meant for him. His soul mate. And when he has found it, they will unite and stay together."

Dean slides a little restlessly on his bench, he looks at the laughing children. "What are you getting at?"

"Are you sure you don't know, Dean? Haven't you felt the pull since you saw Sam again? What do you think it must be like for him? The distance from you drives him almost crazy."

"Then why is he running away?" Dean asks a bit too loudly. "Why am I talking to you, and not him?"

"Because in order to claim you, he would have to bite you. And Sam... he'll die before he does that."

Dean gets up from the bench, takes a few steps. A vampire? Himself? Could Dean live with that? Would he really be willing to take _that_ step? Dean went to Hell for Sam, and he would do it again in a heartbeat. But become a monster? He watches the two boys hunt each other down. Laughing and squealing, they race across the rest stop.

"You're seriously telling me the only chance I have of seeing my brother again, is to let him turn me into a vampire?"

"What I'm telling you, Dean, is that Sam only has two options left." Garth's voice troubles Dean. "Either you can take that step. Leave your old life behind, and you two will become one."

"Or?"

"Or your brother dies." Garth's stare is so intense that it never even occurs to Dean that he's lying.

Dazed, Dean returns to the bench. "What do you mean? Vampires live forever unless you cut off their heads?"

"Or they perish," Garth replied. "If a vampire has found his mate, but the mate refuses him, they give up. Sam hasn't even tried to convince you, he knows he will never bite you. He's dying, Dean."

Dean raises his hand like he's protesting, then clenches a fist and hits the table.

"Garth, this is all too much. Let me talk to him, come on. How can he die, I don't understand."

"He hasn't drank blood in weeks. He hunts, but he gets unfocused and now he is too weak to even do that. I tried to talk to him, begging him not to give up so easily, but he is a stubborn man, your brother."

"Take me to him, Garth, right now." Dean demands, but Garth shakes his head.

"I'll let you see him, but only when you realize that for him, and therefore for both of you, there are only two ways this is going to end.“

"And we both know, there will only be _one_ , Garth. I will not let my brother die."

"I had hoped you would say that," smiles Garth.

"So, for this mate thingy, what do I have to do?"

Garth nervously scratches the back of his head. "I think I'm going to go to the car."

Dean stares at him threateningly. "Garth, I swear to god, if you get your freakin' sock puppet out of that car…“

"Keep Mr. Fizzles out of this," Garh replies, "I'm gonna get booze out of the car because, believe me, after this conversation we're both gonna need something harder."

_Every now and then I know there's no one in the universe_

_as magical and wonderous as you_


	3. Chapter 3

[ ](https://ibb.co/xFQ856D)

_Turnaround bright eyes_

Dean steers Baby along the uneven forest path. The wet leaves on the ground make the wheels spin a few times. If Sam's house was lonely, it was really no comparison to this hiding place. But, as Garth had explained, that was the reason the hut was once built as a retreat for a Hunter who was wanted by police.

And this is where Sam spent the first few weeks after he was freed from the nest. It still gnaws at Dean that he hadn't been there to help Sam in the beginning of his change. But this time, he is there. The small forest hut is easy to overlook, it is so intertwined with the surrounding nature. Quaint, simple, but not outdated, it suddenly appears to his left. Dean briefly considered parking the car a little further away. But, like the first time, Sam's Spiderman senses had spotted it from a distance, so it wouldn't do any good. Dean doesn't want to sneak up on him, he wants to let Sam know that he's there.

He parks the car right outside the entrance and gets out. The car door squeaks as it shuts behind him, and Dean turns around to put his hands on the roof of the car. The house at his back, he looks over Baby's roof into the autumn forest. The sun barely makes it through the thick leaves that are still clinging to the branches. A sea of red and brown; it smells of moss and tree bark. Dean breathes in deeply and absorbs everything. It is obvious to him that whenever he leaves this hut, he will have changed, one way or another. There is no turning back.

[ ](https://ibb.co/NtzVFRP)

Once more he pats Baby's black lacquer, then takes his duffel bag out of the trunk and walks resolutely to the front door.

The door is unlocked and Dean steps into the dark living room. Outside it is still bright enough, but in here all the light seems dimmed. Dean looks around attentively. It is quiet, almost too quiet. The cabin is small, but comfortable. Dean is standing in the middle of the living room, which contains a small, old couch, an even older TV, and an unused fireplace. He had expected to find Sam here, but his brother is nowhere to be seen. Dean briefly wonders if he is in the right hut. There is nothing to indicate that anyone lives here. The small kitchenette seems unused, dust covers the living room table, there are no open books, and no ashes in the fireplace. Everything seems lifeless...dead.

A bad feeling comes over Dean as he walks up the stairs that lead to the bedroom and bathroom. But, here as well everything seems untouched . Dean stands in the bedroom for a moment, his eyes falling on the simple king-sized bed. It smells like mothballs and wet wood. Where is Sam? He is thinking about calling out for him, but something is closing his throat. What if he is too late and Sam isn't there anymore? Or worse, Sam is here, but…

Dean shakes his head, _no_ , there is a feeling inside him that contradicts him. He feels a pull, a bond. And as long as the feeling is there, it cannot be true. He cannot have lost Sam forever.

Slowly, he descends the stairs and reaches out to this bond. He concentrates on Sam, tries to feel him and follows his instinct. He takes off his jacket and puts it next to his duffel bag on the couch. Dean crosses the small kitchen and opens the narrow door leading to the veranda. He steps out onto the small porch and looks out on an open field surrounded by thick forest and covered with golden red autumn leaves. Dean takes the two stairs and steps onto the grass. The ground is soft beneath his feet and the leaves crackle under his boots; looking up, he can see the sky, which is bathed in a deep, dark blue that seems to make all the colors around him shine even more intensely.

" _L'heure bleue_ ,“ the French call it, the blue hour; when the Sun is at a significant depth below the horizon and residual, indirect sunlight takes on a predominantly blue shade, which differs from the blue of a clear day, caused by sunbeams scattering.

Dean breathes a sigh of relief when he hears the fragile voice of his brother behind him. Sam's voice sounds weak and quiet, but the moment Dean turns to him, Sam gathers his strength. "Please stop, Dean. Please don't turn around."

Dean remains with his back to the porch, but he turns his head in the direction from which he heard Sam's voice. "Why not?"

"I don't want to see the look in your eyes." Sam's reasoning stabs Dean like a knife .

Out of the corner of his eye he thinks he can see Sam sitting on a chair on the porch. How Dean could have missed him is beyond him. "What do you want me to do?" Dean asks over his shoulder.

"Drive. Drive away and start your life over."

"Because it worked so well in the past?" Dean can't disguise a sarcastic undertone.

"You are not supposed to be here. I didn't want you to have to see this. Please, Dean, just leave. It's time for me."

"Time for what?" Dean asks.

"I wanted to feel the night one more time, and the beauty of the sun when the day begins again. Then I'll step into the sun and..."

"Not on my watch. Forget it!" Dean snorts and puts his hands on his hips.

"Why?" Sam's voice sounds so incredulous that Dean has to force himself from turning around and shaking him.

"What do you mean, why?“ Dean asks instead. "How can you honestly believe that I would let that happen? You think I've changed _that_ much?"

"But that's what I don't understand. What is different this time? I failed. I've become exactly what Dad predicted I would become; a creature that you hate so much . A bloodsucking monster. A vampire. And someone that you're sick to death of saving."

"When have I ever said such a thing?" Dean asks, shocked to his core.

Sam remains silent for a time and Dean fears Sam has left, when he finally hears his brother's shamed voice. "The night I freed Lucifer … you may have forgotten, but I can't."

Dean pauses for a moment and digs through his memory. "I've said some things, and yes, I was pissed and desperate... but I never said that I was tired of saving you. Never!"

A faint laugh can be heard behind him. "You even left me a message so I could listen to it over and over again. The one that Dad told you, that if you couldn't save me, you should kill me... maybe you should have just listened to him back then."

Angrily, Dean runs his fingers through his hair. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about. I said nothing like that. Yes, I made a call while I was in Zachariah's golden fucking cage, but I _apologized_ to you. I don't know if you're too blood-deficient right now to make sense of things, and honestly, I don't give a damn. I'm gonna turn around now and we're gonna work this out.“

Dean turns determinedly and looks over at his brother. He believed himself to be prepared for the sight, but he immediately knew otherwise.

"Sammy," is all he utter before he kneels by his brother in four quick steps. Sam avoids his gaze. Sam's skin is chalky white, thin like paper, and in some places even torn. His eyes, once bright, are now nothing but blurred pupils staring hopelessly into space. His hair, Sam's pride, is dull and thin. Lost and without hope, that's the first impression that crosses Dean's mind.

Gently, Dean puts his hand on Sam's cheek and, despite the warning, he is shocked by how cold Sam's skin feels. But he doesn't pull it back, instead he gently lifts Sam's head, so that he has to look at Dean. Sam's lips are bloodless and torn. "Sammy... I'm so sorry."

"I've listened to this message hundreds of times. Over and over again so that I'll never disappoint you again. And yet I did. You have nothing to be sorry about, Dean. None of this is your fault."

Dean takes a deep breath before he puts both hands on Sam's face. "You listen close, little brother, 'cause I'm only gonna say this once. I don't know what you thought you heard or what that bitch demon told you, but I didn't say any of that. None of it is true! I was pissed, yeah, but you're my brother, you're my family, my life. And no matter what happens, no matter what any of us did or said, nothing's ever gonna change that. Sammy, you got to believe me on this.“

Dean supports Sam's head in one hand while the other gently runs over Sam's pointy cheekbones. Then he carefully pushes the blanket aside, uncovering Sam's body.  
_He is so thin_ , Dean notes with concern. Sam's clothes seem much too big for him. Dean's eyes burn at the thought, of how long Sam has had to torture himself until his body has become so emaciated.

"I can't be cured," Sam whispers in a tearful voice. "There's nothing you can do, Dean."

"I know there's no cure, Sammy." Dean lifts the blanket to the side. Gently, he pushes Sam's legs apart, slipping between them. Sam's nostrils flare and scent him. _Good._

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam tries to back away, but Dean straightens his upper body, only getting closer to Sam.

"I will not stand idly by and watch you give up." Dean pulls his shirt over his head and throws it beside him. He feels the fight raging in Sam. The lure of fresh blood is right in front of him, but Sam's resistance remains strong.

"You don't understand, Dean. This is not about me. I can't let this happen." Sam tries to turn away, but Dean holds his head again and forces Sam to look at him.

"I understand. Believe me, I probably understand more than you do, thanks to a bottle of Jack Daniels and the most embarrassing conversation I've ever had with Garth. He had to promise me never to talk about it again.“

Sam contorts his face questioningly.

"Anyway, the important thing is... I know, Sam. I know what you're feeling. I know what you’re feeling _for me_ and it's okay."

"Dean, no... you..."

"Shush. I said it's okay. I know… that I'm your mate."

Big, sad hazel eyes stare at Dean, who continues to speak. "See, I know and I said it. I know what it means, I know that you have to turn me. And I know... that you have to claim me." Dean juts his chin forward. “And yet here I am."

"Dean, I can't ask you to do this." Sam tries to push Dean away, but there is no strength in his once-strong body. Dean's heart breaks at the sight of how weak Sam has become.

"I'm here, Sam, because I want to be." Dean continues to press against his brother's upper body. Feels the ribs under Sam's skin and his rattling breath. Dean tilts his head so that Sam's mouth is above Dean's neck, "I'm here, Sam. I'm here and I'm not leaving. I'm never leaving you again."

Sam's lips slide desperately over Dean's beating pulse.

"I want you to drink. I want you to stay with me. Because there's no life without my stupid nerd brother, you hear Sam. I'll never be happy out there unless you're by my side. So do me a favor and drink, _please._ " Dean's voice starts to shake. "Bite."

"I don't know if I can stop." Teeth scraping across Dean's skin.

"You will, Sam. Because you know that's not how the claiming works." Dean's voice whispers into Sam's ear . He hugs his brother with one hand and pushes the back of Sam's head into his neck with the other. "Drink until you are strong enough. Then we'll go inside and complete the ritual. I trust you."

Sam's answering growl is deep and almost animalistic, Dean finally feeling sharp teeth buried in the curve of his neck and shoulder. Dean's heart starts beating like crazy. Adrenaline shoots through his body and Dean fights his every hunter instinct to fight and instead keeps still. He feels warm blood dripping down his neck as Sam sucks on the wound. Dean becomes dizzy, but he holds still. _It's Sam..it's Sam..it's Sam_ ringing in his head.

No more control over his body, he moans, aroused. His body is fighting against the blood loss, and yet Dean feels an ecstasy shooting through him. His cock is hard and throbbing in his jeans. Sam moans as well, only to immediately suck on the wound even more. "Sam," Dean whispers weakly and notices his arms getting heavy. "Sammy." Then everything goes black.

_Every now and then I get a little bit helpless and I'm lying like a child in your arms_

_Heavy_ , Dean's whole body is heavy as if he were lying under a blanket weighing tons. A hissing sounds in his ears and his skin feels rough. Slowly, he tries to open his heavy eyelids. He is so tired…

When he finally manages to open his eyes, he looks into the warm, flickering glow of the fireplace. Dean registers that he is lying on a couch and remembers the forest, the hut, and... _Sam_!

He tries to straighten up, fighting against the dizzy feeling. His upper body is still naked, his jeans have a few drops of dried blood on them. Instinctively he reaches for his neck. "Ouch."

"Don't press on it." The admonishing words of his brother come from the side. Dean looks up and is surprised. He had hoped his blood would help Sam to heal, but he didn't expect the transformation to begin so quickly. Sam also wears only his jeans. His body, which was so weak just moments ago, is strong and slightly tan again. Sam's hair shines in the sparkle of the fire, and his hazel eyes have their magical attraction back.

Mockingly, Dean points to the bite wound on his own neck. "Seems to be a good vintage," he jokes, and Sam has to laugh for a moment.

Then he looks over at Dean with concern in his eyes. "You shouldn't have done this."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Are we having this conversation again right now? I thought we worked this out."

"I couldn't fight it." Sam runs one hand through his hair and paces nervously around the fireplace.

Dean yawns and looks up at him, almost bored. "And now you can fight back? Because as far as I know..." and he opens his arms wide and invitingly, "This, me, is right now what you desire most.“

"This is no joke, Dean! This is not a decision you can make and change your mind after two months. This," Sam taking turns pointing at himself and his brother, "would be forever. Irreversible.“

"And what would change?" Dean asks, and leans back.

"Are you nuts? Everything would change, your whole life would change. If I bite you and make you mine, you will become a vampire too, this time irrevocably. We would be bound together for our whole lives." Sam looks at Dean and Dean slowly gets up.

Seriously, Dean looks at Sam. "And I ask you again, what would change? You are my life, Sammy. Don't you get it yet? Do I really need to prove it to you until you believe me?"

Dean closes the distance between them and, without a moment's hesitation he presses his lips to Sam's. His brother's lips are cold, but incredibly soft. Both remain in this moment, feeling the small pressure of the other's lips and feeling how something in them is changing.

Sam cannot suppress a soft moan and he opens his lips slightly to run the tip of his tongue over his brother's plump lower lip. He is sure he is going to explode from the inside.

How much did he fight against it? He was ready to die. He would never have believed that Dean would feel the same for him. He would never have dared to openly admit that there was a future, together for both of them. And now he holds Dean in his arms. Feels the warm body nestled against his and smells the familiar scent of Dean. Leather, whiskey, and Dean. Simply Dean.

They separate from each other and Sam looks into Dean's green eyes, which look back at him so honestly and openly. "Do you really want this, Dean? Are you sure you do?" Sam needs to know.

Dean cocks his head to the side as if thinking on it. "Well, I do have one more question."

Sam pulls away from Dean's hug and looks at him with a frown. "What?"

Dean's lips twitch playfully, "Were you lying when you said you could still taste? I mean, no offense, I'll get used to the blood eventually, but an occasional steak? And what about pie, come on - eternal life without pie?"

Sam rolls his eyes. "Seriously? Of all things that could happen, _this_ is your main concern? Yeah, you keep tasting. It just doesn't fill you up. You eat it, but it doesn't give you the strength as... as blood does." Sam looks down in shame.

He almost winces as Dean claps his hands. "Well, then it's settled."

"Please, Dean, this isn't funny."

"No, it's not." Dean walks back up to him, stroking Sam's bare arm. "And yes, I'm nervous. But I want this more than anything in the world."

"More than pie?" Sam asks with a grin and lets his big hand caress Dean's back. He feels goosebumps forming on Dean's upper body and Dean's nipples are hardening. Lust awakens in Sam and his pupils dilate.

"More than all the pie in the world," Dean whispers, and their lips meet again.

The crackling of the logs in the fireplace is the only sound in the room. Sam's lips cover Dean's and rob Dean of his senses. His whole body is electrified. All the women before this moment, all the brief bouts of sensuality, scratching that itch, had never given him anything close to what Sam gives him, right now.

Perfection.

Sam's tongue plays around his lips, and Dean's cock begins to throb. Moaning, he opens his mouth, his tongue licking hungry into the heat of Sam's mouth. He licks along the inside and fights with Sam's tongue for a moment, savoring his brother’s taste. Sam's big hands wander over Dean's naked back, feeling every scar, every trace of their shared past. His lips glide down Dean's chin; soft, pink lips groaning against Dean's neck, biting tenderly into the thin skin.

"Dean," Sam pleads, and Dean will give him everything.

"What do you need?" Dean breathes, eyes closed .

"You, just you." Sam's mouth moves further down, grazes Dean's collarbone, licks his chest, and sucks on a nipple.

While Sam's mouth teases the small, hard bud, his hands glide lower, over the small of Dean's back, all the way into the back of Dean's jeans. His hands clasp Dean's bare ass cheeks, kneading the round globes and pulling them apart. Dean reaches into Sam's hair, looks down, and sees how Sam licks and bites at his nipples. He pulls at Sam's hair, makes him look up.

Sam's mouth is slightly open, the eyes are dark and lust blown, and a narrow, red ring has settled around his pupils.

Once more Sam embraces him with his strong arms. One hand is resting on Dean's cheek. Sam struggles with himself, struggles between the animal desire he has for Dean and his rational mind.

"Dean, I have to hear it." His voice trembles.

Dean puts his forehead to Sam, looks him straight in the eyes. "I want it, Sam. I want you. Forever."

A throaty rumble rings out, and Sam's pupils turn almost completely black.

"I can't hold it back anymore, Dean."

"Then don't." Dean barely finished the sentence as Sam spun him around. It feels wrong in all the right ways and it shoots a bolt of electricity through his gut.  
Dean presses his back against Sam. Feels the naked skin against his own, feels Sam's quickly thickening cock pressing against Dean's ass. Dean tilts his head to the side, giving Sam free access to the spot where his brother has already bitten him.

He feels Sam's breath on his skin, and his fine hairs stand up on end. Sam moves his nose from Dean's shoulder to his ear. Dean hears him breathe in, smelling his scent. "Mate, my mate." Sam's voice is deep and dark against his skin and Dean feels like he's paralyzed. Dean's cock presses hard against the jeans that have quickly become much too tight. He follows Sam's voice, his lips forming a soft O. He feels Sam unbuttoning the button on Dean's jeans, pulling down the zipper, and letting his hand slide into his boxer briefs. Dean's legs become like rubber, but Sam's other arm keeps him upright and pressed against him with inhuman strength. Sam strips off Dean's jeans and Dean manages to climb out of them. Then the boxers fall to the floor and his hard cock jumps up full and hard against his stomach.

Sam's face is still in the curve of Dean's neck, biting gently on the thin skin while whispering tender words in his ear. Dean loses all sense of space and time, everything in front of him disappearing into a blurry gray. He hears his heart beating wildly in his chest, but inside he is completely calm, as if Sam's closeness soothes him. Everything feels right, everything is as it should be. Sam teases Dean's cock with the briefest touch, massaging his heavy balls before his hand moves up from Dean's chest to his mouth. Sam's index and middle fingers stroke Dean's full lips, increasing the pressure on them, demanding to get inside.

Readily, Dean opens his mouth, feeling the fingers running over his tongue.

"Make them moist for me, make them nice and wet for me to open you up, my mate."

Sam pushes Dean's body forward until his legs hit the couch. He falls forward, supports himself with his hands on the backrest, and feels Sam push his legs apart. Sam's big hands grab his hips and bring his ass up.

"Beautiful, my beautiful mate." Sam breathes over Dean's back as his wet fingers circle Dean's wrinkled hole.

As Sam carefully, but steadily sinks two long fingers into Dean without further warning, Dean moans with relish. His whole body seems to burn. Sam's cold skin, chills permanently running over his back, bringing him only more into ecstasy. His pulsating cock, rubbing against the rough fabric of the couch, does not give him the hoped-for relief.

"Sammy, I need you. I want you." he calls out in frustration, but Sam just pushes deeper into the puckering hole.

"So tight Dean, so wonderfully perfect for me," Sam whispers as he sinks a third finger into Dean. "You are mine, no one else will ever have you, you are mine." Sam's fingers curl slightly and hit Dean's nerve bundle. Dean's moaning also gets animalistic, and he needs to feel Sam fully. Needs his brother deep inside him.

"Sam, I can't hold out anymore," he moans, and shoves his ass backwards. He takes Sam's finger even deeper inside himself and seeks the satisfaction that only Sam can give him.

"So ready for me, so willing, my mate," Sam whispers and slowly removes his fingers from Dean's stretched hole. Sam pushes his legs further apart. His hands get caught in the fabric of the couch and he can't wait until he feels the new pressure on his butt.

"Are you really sure?" Sam asks one last time. "Are you ready to be mine, my mate, my soul?"

Dean feels the tip of Sam's cock slowly slide into him, overcoming the muscles of his hole and pressing steadily into him. He feels Sam's body rising behind him, pressing itself against Dean. Sam's cock penetrates deeper into him, takes him, possesses him, and Dean eagerly awaits Sam's lips on his neck. Sam is completely inside him, pushing deep into his body. Sam moans, loudly, his breath cold against Dean's neck.

With one hand, Dean continues to support himself, the other one grasps the back of Sam's head, buries itself in his hair and pulls him even closer.

"I am ready. Make me yours."

Dean feels his skin being pierced by sharp teeth. Sam bites deep into Dean's neck, holding him there with raw power while his hips press rhythmically into Dean.

Dean realizes the increasing amount of adrenaline flowing through him again, while he feels Sam's powerful thrusts. Uninhibitedly he fucks Dean in ever faster movements, takes him deep and forcefully. Dean senses the blood dripping down his neck. _His_ blood, that runs down on him in a thin stream. Sam bites even harder, sucks tighter, and this time he won't stop. This time there is no going back. Dean's body suddenly becomes restless, his hunter instinct blending with his pure will to survive. But Sam pushes him deeper into the sofa, fucks him even more intensely, and Dean knows that he won't have a chance.

"Sammy..." Dean feels the life draining out of him. But he knows he's just passing it on. He gives it to Sam, his soul, his mate. He feels Sam's climax, he feels the vibration of Sam's body covering him. Feels Sam emptying himself deep inside of him. His breath becomes weak.

He is getting tired. Sam holds him tightly.

"Sleep, my love."

Dean closes his eyes.

It is a dark, dreamless sleep. Black mixes with red. Dull, everything is so dull and quiet. Dean wants to get up, but cannot. Something heavy pushes him down. Pulls him into the black depths of a never-ending lake. Breathe, Dean can't breathe. Dean swallows desperately, it tastes like salt, like iron, like Sam.

Sam, it smells like Sam. Dean's eyes are too heavy. He fights, fights his way up through the water that pulls him down. He's gotta go up, he's gotta fight.

"Shhh Love, don't fight."

No, no, he's got to get up, he's got to breathe.

Dean lashes out, hits something soft, hits again. "Nggh!" It's cold, so cold. He can't see anything, just endless darkness. Where is Sam? He's got to get to Sam.

"Mate, feel me, listen to my voice."

Dean quiets, Sam's voice is near, he's getting warmer. Body to body. Sam's with him, everything will be fine. Heat is in his groin, deep excitement. Dean moans, seeking redemption. He is hard, something is sitting on him, letting him in. Sam, it's Sam, Dean moves his hips, feels how he keeps sliding in. Warmth, desire, Sam.

"Drink, mate. Drink from me. Join with me."

Sam's kisses taste so sweet. Dean opens his mouth.

Something warm flows into his throat. Dean is thirsty, so very thirsty. His orgasm rolls over him. Sam is waiting for him, everything is fine. He swims up. Dean breaks the surface, he opens his eyes. Sam is the first thing he sees. Hazel eyes, full of love, Sam's wrists are bloody, claw wounds on his arm. But Sam just smiles, and it's all that matters.

"Welcome mate."

_And I need you now tonight  
And I need you more than ever  
And if you only hold me tight  
We'll be holding on forever  
And we'll only be making it right  
Cause we'll never be wrong together_


	4. Epilogue

[ ](https://ibb.co/9n49pDz)

_Every now and then I know you'll always be the only boy  
who wanted me the way that I am_

Dean lies on his back on their bed, relaxing, as his breath finally evens out. He spreads his legs and makes more room for Sam. His limp cock is twitching from the ebbing of his orgasm, come spilling out of him in last, small waves.

His hunger is satisfied for now.

Sam lies on him like a blanket, their bodies finally have the same temperature. It is the middle of the night, their bedroom dark, but Dean does not miss the smallest detail of his brother. The bleeding wrist, where Dean has been lavishingly feasting himself; the gaping wounds on Sam's arm, where Dean has buried his fingernails, because their sex is hard, raw, and tremendous.

Their injuries will heal quickly, as they always do. Dean turns his head to the side, enjoying the dizzying feeling of orgasm mixed with the continuous blood loss. Sam is still sucking on Dean's neck. There is nothing left that they do not share; their blood, their bond, their souls.

Dean strokes Sam's hair. Later, he'll make steaks. Dean insists on a balanced diet. His first attempt at blood from a bag took more than getting used to. But he survived kale, which was a cherry on top by comparison.

Sam licks over the already closing wound. Sam hums and the slight vibration reverberates into Dean's neck.

Later, Dean will call Garth. The werewolves in Tucson are finished. No new job in the next 48 hours- their rules. They take on hunts more dangerous than ever before. If they were a well-oiled team before, they are a welded unit now. The brothers communicate without words; purely by instinct, superhuman fast, and without any mercy.

The Winchester brothers were hated, the Winchester Vampires are feared.

Crowley has retreated for good. The message Dean wrote to him was clear. If he gets in the way of him or his brother again, Dean will not rest until Crowley's rotting body burns.

Sam kisses Dean's neck and wanders over his Adam's apple and his chin. Dean's moss green eyes seek his brother's hazels. He strokes the loose strand of hair from Sam's face and puts it behind Sam's ear. There is a bag of AB positive in the refrigerator. Dean has bought cocktail umbrellas. Sam will roll his eyes at the sight of the cocktail umbrellas, and Dean will grin. Then his brother will smile at him as only Sam can.

Dean has never been more at peace.

_Forever's gonna start tonight_


End file.
